Episode VII: The Lengthening Shadows
by TheTomWhoWrites
Summary: My own take on Episode VII. Maintains the characters - with some new ones - of the movie, but this is my own telling and take on the story. I start at the start of the film and will see where it takes me. Feedback welcome.
1. Crawl

Hi Folks,

It's been a long time since I published anything, mainly because of how incredibly busy I've been. Following the fail of TLJ and TRoS, I thought I'd see what I can come up with in place of the new trilogy.

I've started with only the basic assumptions from the start of TFA and am going from there with my own ideas. I think that The Lengthening Shadows might stick very broadly to the ideas of TFA, but my versions of TLJ and TRoS will be radically different.

Check it out and tell me what you think, cheers.

Episode VII: The Lengthening Shadows.

After more than twenty years of peace, a dark new force, The First Order has emerged from the dark expanses beyond republic space. Their rampage across the stars of an unprepared and fragmented galaxy apparently has only one target: Luke Skywalker.

But the Grandmaster is missing, his new Jedi Order in tatters following an unknown betrayal almost a decade ago.

Led by General Leia Organa, a new movement has been born, a new resistance that the crumbling republic cannot provide for itself.

To this end, ace pilot Poe Dameron has been dispatched to seek out an old friend, who might just be able to provide answers to the location of the hero of the galaxy.


	2. Chapter 1: Poe I

Chapter 1: Poe Dameron

Real gravity felt strange again as his boots ground into the coarse rust red soil of the giant moon.

"Master Tekka, this is Poe Dameron. I repeat, this is Commander Poe Dameron for Master Lor San Tekka. If you read me, please acknowledge this communique." The pilot said into his communicator. The air was hot and he cuffed at a runnel of sweat running down his nose as BB-8 was disconnected from his ancient X-Wing.

"Come on, old man." He thought, taking a sip of water from the drinking tube protruding from the collar of his flight suit.

A rapid set of clicks and beeps came from the optical assembly on what approximated BB-8's head.

"I've noticed. It makes sense as a hiding place, I guess. Oxygen this low and gravity this high make it a pretty good hiding place." Poe turned from the X-Wing and climbed the scrub-covered mound. The gas giant around which the moon orbited was huge in the sky and the star of the system – nameless except for a serial number in the Republic archives – barely brighter than the stars had been on his home planet, so many years ago.

Taking another heavy, slow breath he raised the communicator again. "Master Tekka, this is Poe Dameron. I repeat, this is Commander Poe Dameron for Master Lor San Tekka. If you read me, please acknowledge this communique."

The scrubland was silent, eerily so. There air was so still and dry he could feel the sweat drying on his face. After almost a decade spent in space, seeing so far as to only be limited by a horizon was dizzying.

"Master Tekka, this-" he started again, stopping mid-sentence.

There was someone there.

He turned, his hand on his blaster as BB-8 started to squeal a warning.

"Woah, easy." Said the boy leaning against the fore landing strut of his X-Wing. He held his hands up placatingly, apparently unarmed.

"Who are you?" Poe asked, taking a few steps back down the dune.

"You seek the Tekka?" the boy asked, still leaning against Poe's beloved antique fighter.

"I've been sent to talk to him. He is needed."

"He has taken great pains to be hidden these nine years. Commander Dameron. I fail to see how he can help you against this gathering darkness." The boy was human, his face covered in a heavy veil. All that was visible of him was a pair of huge brown eyes surrounded by sunbeaten skin.

Why can't these people just deal straight? Poe thought, reaching into a pouch on his belt. "She thought Tekka's people might say something like that. She gave me this to prove my intentions and the importance of my mission." He held out his hand to the boy, a small thumb-sized stone resting in the palm.

The boy stood up from the X-Wing and took a step forward. "Is that?"

Poe nodded.

The boy pulled the veil away from his mouth, revealing a face more worn, scarred and tired than someone as young as he should possibly have gained in twice his years "Well, I guess that changes things." He said, picking up the small, green crystal.

"What does it mean?" Poe asked, getting impatient.

"That a debt incurred must be paid. I'll take you to him."


	3. Chapter 2: Rey I

Chapter 2: Rey I

She shivered in the dark despite the sweat running down her arms. The panel had come away from the housing easily, but the master routing switch refused to come free from its assembly.

It was her last target of the day. Day six-thousand, nine hundred and seventy-two local, or fourteen standard years since she had come to Jakku.

Arms burning, her waist chafed by her hanging harness, she reached deeper into the service hatch, her patience running out.

"Drown this." She growled to herself, ripping the least accessible cable from the router, freeing the unit. It would mean more time spent cleaning it up before her trip to Unkar Plutt. Freeing her arm, she dropped the unit into her bag and sagged back into the harness to catch her breath.

Overhead the sky was turning from bright blue to the bruise purple of late afternoon. She had been out since before dawn.

Exhausted, she decided to make her life easier that day in exchange for more work the next and lowered herself down toward the starboard side of the vast, ruined Star Destroyer which sat as it had crashed decades ago.

Rey knew the stories but didn't care. She hated Jakku, but she couldn't leave. They could come back at any time for her. She had to be ready.

She emerged from the wrecked Star Destroyer dragging her days plunder, a little over thirty kilograms of salvage. A good day's work.

Outside, the sun cast long shadows across the almost endless desert, and she shielded her eyes against the glare. Her speeder sat where she had left it, tethered down with a sand anchor at the bottom of the dune that had been created when the Star Destroyer had fallen.

The dry heat outside was welcome after the cold of the wreckage and she rubbed goosebumps from her arms before choosing a sheet of panelling for a sled to save her scrambling down the slope.

Her speeder was, like everything else on Jakku, a salvage. Its frame was something centuries old from Calando, its reactor something purchased from Jawas three years earlier and its main drive a Dantooine trailblazer. After a quick inspection, she noticed that the primary coolant interchange would need overhauling or replacing before the year was out.

But it would be good for the twenty-kilometre trip back to Niima at the very least.

The long evening was just beginning when she entered the outpost. The dusty collection of shacks had been her home for more than five years.

Old Arashnie was already at the scrubbing table when she dragged her wares over for cleaning. Rey settled across the table from her and held up two chits, inviting Parr the waterseller over.

"Two buys one today." The Devaronian grumbled, reaching for the scraps of tungsten.

"As long as it's cold and purified." She replied, stifiling a yawn and snatching away the chits. The summer had been unusually harsh, lasting two whole standard years and driving the price of water to unprecedentedly high levels.

"Cold enough." Parr said.

"Purified?"

"Filtered. Take or leave it."

She looked up at him. He was ugly even by the standards of his own species, his skin loose and dessicated and missing one horn.

"Are you trying to rob me, Parr?" She asked, hotly. The desert that held Niima outpost in its grasp was cruel, even compared to Blowback Town, the only major settlement on the whole wretched planet. It tended to dry out the kindness of its inhabitants hearts as it did their hides.

"It's just the price, princess."

"You're a monster. Three chits for two cups of purified. Final offer." She said, biting the inside of her lower lip to keep her frustration from boiling over.

The Devaronian half shook his massive head, stopped, blinked twice and swallowed. His right hand, the one holding the water dispenser clenched for a moment, squirting a drop of water onto the tabletop.

"Be careful, that's probably an eighth's worth right there." She said, causing old Arashnie to bark a ripping paper sound in place of a laugh.

Parr didn't reply but held out his free hand.

She dropped three chits into his calloused palm then held out her cup which she kept fastened to her tool belt.

Flicking a switch on the dispenser, he filled the cup which she drained in one long gulp, then held it out again. Parr grimaced and filled it before stalking off.

"Well done." Arashnie said, without pausing in her scrubbing of a three-fifths torque adapter. "He's been overcharging all day. Where have you been?"

"Camping out at the wrecked destroyer, down near the long drag. I was there three days."

"You've got a good haul with you. I'll warn you though, Unkar's feeling cheap today. I wouldn't take him more than you need."

Rey smiled, feeling the dryness of her skin and how foreign the sensation was on her cheeks. "Thank you."

She sipped her water, feeling the moisture soak into her, then noticed Arashnie's darting eye taking in the cup. The old woman, one of the few other humans in the settlement looked more drawn and desiccated than ever.

Rey put the cup down on the table and slid it across to Arashnie. "On me." She said, smiling.

The old woman took the cup and nursed it for the half hour that it took Rey to clean some of her salvaged components. She gave up as the sun touched the horizon at Blackened Ridge and stood. Arashnie handed her back the cup.

Unkar Plutt was a Crolute, and ridiculously out of place in the desert. He maintained the most decadent item Rey had ever seen on Jakku, a bathtub large enough to fully immerse himself. Despite his wasteful efforts in such a parched landscape, his once gelatinous body had turned doughy and sagging.

She could see that he was in a bad mood from thirty paces as she dragged her haul over to him, her one-time guardian and surrogate parent. She loathed the greedy junklord.

She joined the three-deep queue in front of his trading post and sorted through her clean wares, knowing that she wouldn't be going to bed with a full belly that night.

Tabarim the Zealot, the last in line before her embarked on a several minute long haggling with Unkar, which resulted in the Crolute losing his temper and rejecting the sale. Tabarim, knowing his mistake stalked away, probably to find someone else that could provide him with a measure of aminowash to stave off starvation.

"Rey." Unkar said as she approached. "You've been away a long time."

"Four days."

"You'd better have something worth my time. You're looking very thin." He grumbled.

"I do, and more for tomorrow when I've had chance to clean them up." She said, reaching down and taking the items from her bag and placing them carefully on the counter.

He took his time, sucking air through his teeth and examining each piece in detail, looking up at her from time to time.

"What you've brought me today is worth... Hmmm... One quarter-portion." He said, grumbling.

It took a conscious effort for Rey to not react. If she haggled, she might get up to one half portion, but having heard how he treated the Zealot, she might get nothing. The things in her bag were worth at least two full portions, but only if cleaned up properly. She was hungry, hadn't eaten all day.

She looked up at him again. He twisted his face into a grimace that approximated a smile then slapped down a one quarter-portion onto the counter. She took it and left, folding the wrapper of polystarch and amino-protein gel beneath her shirt.


	4. Chapter 3: Poe II

Chapter 3: Poe Dameron II

The streams of hyperspace vanished, replaced with static stars. He knew the planet below instantly. He had been there before about ten standard years ago.

"Are you serious?"

The boy, crammed into the rear seat of the X-Wing chuckled. "The Tekka says it's because of the damage that was done here. Force is all messed up, yeah? Safe place."

"I hate Jakku, the place feels wrong." Poe said, looking down at enormous scar line from the death of the last ever Imperial Super Star Destroyer that was even visible here in geosynchronous orbit.

"You got the coordinates?"

Poe nodded, putting the memory of his first and last time on that hell-world. He took manual control of the X-wing and headed down into the thin skin of atmosphere. The co-ordinates led to an area just behind the terminator, in heavy dusk. At least it would be cooler.

"That's it, right there." The boy said after a few minutes of descent. Life signs were starting to flick into life on the sensors, marking out Tuanul.

"Good, I hope you're right about this kid." Poe said, eager to see the back of deserts, desert planets and planets in general.

If only the rebellion had decided to have a fleet-based leadership. He thought as the small village started to take shape out of the heat haze in the distance.

He dropped the landing gear when people could be clearly picked out among the buildings, all of which were simple, primitive and little more than shacks.

"It not much, but it is home." The boy said, un-fastening his harness. "We live simple here. Don't see many strangers, but I take you to Tekka."

Eager to get it finished and back to base, Poe released the roof of the X-wing.

The air was scorching despite the sun being below the horizon. The boy had leapt from his X-wing and into the arms of the gathered crowd. The people of Jakku seemed all small, dry things, mostly human and covered – for the most part – head to foot in sand robes.

One figure separated itself from the crowd and approached: taller, leaner but just as heavily robed.

BB-8, free from the interface, rolled over beeping and clicking.

"I sure hope so buddy. This planet is a killer."

The figure reached up to its face and pulled away the smock covering its nose and mouth.

Poe sighed in relief. It was Tekka. Older, worn, but unmistakably him. He stepped forward, meeting the old man and held out a hand.

"Master San Tekka. I'm Poe Dameron, she sent me to find you."

The old man smiled. He was almost extremely thin, with wispy white hair fluffing out from his veil and his grey eyes were watery in the heat. "Hello, commander Dameron. I've been waiting. Please come inside."

The air inside the hut was cool and less arid than outside, lit with simple glowing orbs that did little to penetrate the darkness.

"You must appreciate that I am both glad and unhappy to see you, commander." Tekka said, easing himself onto a stool. "If not for the coming of this First Order, my secret would have died with me, as _he_ wanted. But time is short."

"I'm sorry, Master Tekka, but that's maddeningly vague. The general has been searching for Master Skywalker for almost a decade. Are you saying you've known where he is all this time?"

The old man smiled wearily. "I'm afraid so. I've known her since she was a child and keeping the truth from her all this time has been an agony for me. Hopefully this will begin to make things right." He reached out and dropped a small leather pouch into Poe's hand. "Without the Jedi, there can be no balance in the galaxy. And to me, your general will always be royalty."

"Why did you choose to get in touch now, after all these years?"

Tekka sighed then tensed, pausing stone still for several seconds before terror passed over his face.

"You must go, commander" he said, standing quickly. "We are discovered."

What now? Poe thought, getting to his feet.

BB-8 rolls into the hut, beeping wildly.

"What do you mean, they're in space? How?"

"Come, commander." Tekka said, taking Poe by the arm and projecting him through the door. "Get to your ship and away before they arrive."

Outside dark had fully settled and people were running around in every direction, carrying children, valuables and taking cover.

"Go, BB-8, get the ship ready to take off! Wait, take this!" Poe shouted over the noise. He dropped to one knee and pulled out the pouch. Inside there was only a single data chip. "Take this and get to the ship."

BB-8 opened a small panel on his orb and took the chip, locking it safely away before spinning hard in the direction of the X-wing.

Poe stood and looked for Tekka, seeing him talking urgently to the boy and three other youngsters, all about the same age.

Sprinting over to him, he grabbed the old man's arm. "Master Tekka, come with me, we need you." He said, his voice shaking with the first surges of adrenaline.

Tekka turned to him, smiling sadly. "I'm afraid not, commander. You must go. Find Luke and help him complete what was started so long ago. Go now!"

"Get to safety at least!" Poe said, bursting into a run toward the X-wing which was starting to cycle up, BB-8 visible in the astromount.

Over the sound of screaming and panic and the noise of his flightboots scrunching through the ground, he heard Tekka's voice. 'May the force b-'

And the world exploded around him.

Halfway to the X-wing, the world exploded around Poe.


	5. Chapter 4: FN-2187 I

Chapter 4: FN-2187 I

The hollow rattle changed into a buffeting roar as they plunged into the atmosphere, causing the overhead lights to flicker, dim, flicker again and stabilise.

They were attached directly to their harnesses by hardpoint anchors in their armour that transmitted every shake and vibration through to them.

FN-2187 was cool and composed. His heartrate was shown on the heads-up display in his helmet and was smooth and regular. He had trained for this for more than ten years.

His radio crackled. 'You okay, Eight-Seven?' Came the voice of FN-2199 from a few seats down the aisle.

He made to respond several times, discarding several answers, well aware that every second of his first drop as squad leader was being monitored back on the ship. He opted for polite, but informal. 'I'm good, thanks Nines, you?'

'You know it!' Nines said, laughing. 'Been waiting forever for this!'

'Eight-Seven's still not ready for his armour, let alone a combat drop.' Came the voice of FN-2179 from the top of the boat in his place beside the Lieutenant. 'Don't worry, we'll look after you.'

FN-2187 leaned forward against his restraints and could just make out 2179's outline, complete with his new sergeant's pauldron, somehow blacker than the moments when the lights failed.

He swallowed hard again and put his head back as he'd been trained. Seven-Nine and he had been part of the same intake of recruits and had been made sergeant just a month earlier.

'Twenty seconds.' The pilot reported as their harnesses were released.

The lieutenant stood and faced the whole drop pod. 'Their position has been weakened ahead of time. It is for us to secure the landing site and ensure no one gets away.' She said over the comm.

Simultaneously the five sergeants stood and the fifteen squad leaders received activation orders. FN-2187 stood, feeling the servos in his armour buzz gently over his bodyglove under his armour.

'Ten seconds.'

He chinned open his squad channel. 'KT squad, on-point!'

His squad stood, only a couple of them visibly shaken by the drop. He hoped that they would all make it to the ground without vomiting. They shouldered their rifles and grabbed the overhead rails as the boat started rocking violently.

FN-2187 took his own rifle from the rack above his seat and grabbed the rail, closing his eyes.

He forced his mind to remember his training. He had been preparing for this moment the last ten years, since his parents gave him over to The First Order. He took a deep breath as he remembered the cold expression of the captain, addressing him and his other new squad leaders just three weeks ago. How he had gone from a mop to a fully loaded blaster rifle and responsibility for ten other troopers in six weeks was beyond him.

'Three, two, one.'

The drop pod door opened on a world on fire. KM squad, at the front of the boat burst out, led by the sergeant and their squad leader.

As soon as their boots touched the ramp, blaster-fire started cutting them down.

Anxiety for the battle ahead started to flood FN-2187's mind but was interrupted by a cold wave of cool certainty.

The combat stims drove away his fear and cleared his mind, leaving behind only his training. Looking over his squad, he could see clearly the subtle shivers that ran through them. They were united then, fearless.

'KT squad, ho!' he roared, raising his rifle and charging toward the mouth of the drop pod.

'Good luck, little brother.' Said Seventy-Nine over the comm. 'I'll see you when we've secured our first victory here.'

FN-2187 smiled detachedly as he took his first step down the ramp, feeling the ripple of real gravity grabbing him after months of exactly one, artificially generated g.

He took in the bodies of twenty, no – twenty-three downed troopers around him and raised his rifle, firing and driving their targets back behind cover.

It was exactly like in the sims and their years of training. He issued commands as if by instinct and saw as his men responded, turning their weapons wherever needed.

Over there was Nines led his squad, all armed with close-combat suppression gear. They struck down everyone in their path as they headed toward their objective.

A scream broke his focus for a moment.

Turning, he saw the newest member of his squad, FN-2441 caught full in the visor by a bolt of blaster fire, a hole burned cleanly through the glass.

Shuddering, feeling the edge fade off his stims, he chinned the control to dispense more and ran toward cover.

The impact of his back hitting the shelter rocked through him as he caught his breath.

He was out of breath. That wasn't supposed to happen – the stims. He chinned the dispenser again, the action one of mnemonic programming and instruction drilled into him over years.

Nothing.

'Eight-Seven?' Said a weak voice nearby, not over comm.

He looked down and saw a trooper, his chest armour torn open by some kind of impact, a horizontal slash like a blade.

The black pauldron made FN-2187's mouth go dry. He knelt and pulled off the helmet.

Beneath, he saw sergeant FN-2179. Blood flecking his lips beneath wide, terrified eyes. He reached a hand up to FN-2187 and touched his face-plate as his eyes rolled back into his head. The hand fell away, leaving behind three red streaks over FN2187's vision.

He collapsed back, landing on his backside and leaning against the wall. His heart was pounding in his chest. He tried to breathe, tried to remember his training, tried to focus.

In his helmet, a display told him that five of his ten men were down, four of them already dead.

Shaking, he pressed the stim dispenser again. Nothing.

He radioed the command channel and was skipped past Seventy-Nine's frequency, straight to the lieutenant.

'Lieutenant sir, this is FN-2187, over.' He said, stammering the words. There was no hint of command to be heard in his voice.

There was no reply from the lieutenant.

Another of his men fell. Then another.

'Squad leader.' He heard over his comm. It was FN-2394: his status read "Wounded" next to his name.

FN-2187 swallowed in a dry throat and stood. His training was forgotten, but his men needed him. He staggered toward Three-Nine-Seven, following a small inverted triangle across the ruined area.

The fighting was dying down. To his right, next to the ruins of the buildings, he saw an old man, surrounded by Nines and his squad, kneeling on the ground, his hands behind his back.

According to his display, Three-Nine-Seven was just ten meters away. FN-2187 continued forward into a wall of smoke and saw…

It was like a blaster bolt, but waving back and forth. It was a beam of bright, pale blue light being held by a boy. A boy younger than himself.

The boy struck forward, swinging the light toward a trooper with impossible speed. The trooper paused then fell, his head dropping away from his body.

The boy was fast, way too fast. He darted left then right and forward again, killing two troopers with one swing of the strange weapon.

Then from overhead came a rumbling of engines and the night was lit up with heavy blaster fire. The ground around the boy and the troopers erupted in fire and smoke.

Three-Nine-Seven's signal disappeared.


	6. Chapter 5: Poe III

Chapter 5: Poe Dameron III

Pain and noise. He lay on the ground, his mouth and nose full of dirt.

After what could have been three seconds or three days, he managed to roll onto his back. The stars were gone overhead, obscured by smoke.

Nothing felt broken inside him and he sat up, feeling a sharp pain in the back of his head. Fighting back a wave of numbness that tried to pull him back into darkness, he spat and looked around.

The village was gone, reduced to rubble and fire. There were corpses everywhere, First Order troopers and villagers. There were about an even number of each. There were three huge, black dropships on the outskirts of the village, one on fire, looming like obelisks.

_First Order. I had no idea they were even in this sector._ He thought.

He found that his small collapsible carbine was still on its sling around his neck. Unfolding it, he thumbed the power button and tried to stand.

Finding his feet, he saw his X-Wing, torn apart and on fire. The astromount was destroyed, no sign of BB-8. He had time for a moment of dread before several blaster bolts scorched the air around him. He dropped low and ran, limping for cover. Behind a ruined transport, he saw a trooper, armoured in white like they all were and fired.

The figure wasn't a person to Poe, just a destroyer. It fell.

In the distance, at the other end of the village, another dropship landed in the darkness.

Poe knelt back down being the wrecked transport and realised that it wasn't a dropship. The engine report was wrong and the shape, while unfamiliar, looked more like an attack craft than a dropper.

He rose just enough to see over the wreckage in time to see the craft settle on the sand and deploy a ramp.

The lights inside were red to avoid fouling up humans' night vision and revealed three figures waiting to disembark.

One, the tallest stepped out and it seemed that the darkness coalesced around him.

Wearing black from head to food, the figure was plainly male, almost certainly human, with a long stride and its face hidden by a deep hood.

Something about the man – and Poe somehow knew then that it was a man – locked his muscles and froze him in place.

He strode through the darkness and out of sight. As soon as he passed out of Poe's view, he found he could move again, like waking up from some too-real nightmare.

He stood and moved as quietly as he could, stepping over dead troopers and villagers alike toward the sound of voices.

The figure had stopped and was kneeling before Lor San Tekka who looked like he was already dead.

Fire played off a mask beneath the man's hood and it seemed that the darkness withdrew from around him.

'Look how old you've become.' He said, his voice tinny and distorted through a vox-speaker built into his mask.

_Why didn't you run, you old fool?_ Poe thought, trying to remain hidden in the rubble.

'Something far worse has happened to you.' Tekka said, his voice still strong and carrying across the ruined village.

'You know what I've come for.'

'I know what you came from. Long before you called yourself Kylo Ren you were...'

'The map to Skywalker. We know you know where he is.' The man – Kylo Ren – interrupted Tekka. 'We came here, we destroyed you and your… charges. You will give it to me.'

The old man looked Kylo Ren over, disgust crossing his ancient features. 'I will not. Had you not wreaked such havoc, you might've had a chance of forcing the information from me, but as you say: you've destroyed everything that meant anything to me.'

'There are worse things than death, old man.'

'And I've seen more of them than you, in my time. You forget that I saw both the rise and fall of the empire. I was an old man when we first met.'

'I was just a boy then, now I am the master.' Ren said, standing up.

Tekka laughed, a short, bitter bark. 'You are the master of nothing but lies and broken promises. I've heard of you, a new monster in the dark, claiming to be a new Darth-'

The old man's words were cut off by a savage backhand from Ren that sent him sprawling on the floor. It took troopers a few seconds to drag him back to his knees, blood running from his mouth.

He was mumbling something through a mouth of broken teeth as Ren paced back and forth like some great beast behind bars barely strong enough to hold it back.

'…passion, there is serenity.' Poe was able to make out.

'That old prayer won't save you, you pathetic fossil.' Ren said.

Tekka shrugged then, and the troopers holding him were thrown backward and off their feet. He stood and for a moment it looked as if he was haloed in a kind of faint silvery light. 'There is no death; there is the Force!' he shouted through bloody lips.

'I'll show you the force!' Ren bellowed, turning to Tekka. In his hand was a short rod.

Poe saw it coming without knowing what _it_ was. He leapt up, raising his carbine to fire.

Red light burst from the rod in Ren's hand, a bright beam more solid than steel. Two smaller beams, like exhaust ports blazed just above his hand.

The old man closed his eyes, his face serene.

The blade fell and Poe fired.

But the blade stopped short of the old man's throat. The bolt stopped in mid-air: a cracking, writhing snake of energy that shouldn't have been possible. Poe's breath caught in his throat, every tendon, muscle and sinew became locked tight.

Ren turned around, his right hand clenched in a fist pointed at Poe. 'Take the old man on board. If we don't find the map, he's the next best thing.'

His troopers jumped to obey, hooding and shackling the old man before dragging him away.

Unable to move so much as his eyeballs, Poe felt strong arms grab him and drag him toward Ren.

He fought with every fibre of his being. Every screed of effort that he could muster went into resisting whatever was happening to him.

_This must be the force. He's the Sith Lord they've been talking about. I won't be put in the dark again_. He thought, his mind sharpened beyond belief in absence of control of his body.

They stopped and held him up while they patted him down. Ren went back to the pacing animal thing, walking out of his sight, his lightsabre deactivated.

Then the guards were gone and he fell to the floor, his muscles released.

From the dirt he saw black boots step into his view.

_Just don't let them take you alive._

'I recognise your insignia, Commander.' Ren said.

_There's the knife in your boot. Even if that's the last chance you have. _

'I'm afraid there's been some misunderstanding here, commander. Perhaps you can be of assistance?'

_Don't let them see you afraid._ Poe looked up, gazing into the expressionless black mask. 'No, there's no misunderstanding. You came here and murdered a couple of hundred people for no reason at all.'

'That's where you're mistaken, I'm afraid. I came here to ensure the continuance of the whole galaxy. To prevent the Jedi from rising again to enslave all thinking beings.'

His voice was smooth, even through the distortion of the mask. He seemed reasonable. Poe remembered people talking about the Jedi like they were heroes, everyone in the galaxy knew the name Luke Skywalker: the hero that destroyed the Emperor.

'Make our friend here more comfortable.' Ren said, gesturing to the troopers. They picked Poe up, not roughly this time, but with care, and set him back down on his backside. Ren squatted down a few feet in front of him.

'Do you know anything about the location of Luke Skywalker?' Ren asked, his words cool and calm and reasonable.

Images flashed unbidden through Poe's mind: leaving the general a little over one standard week ago, arriving on the giant moon and the boy bringing him to Jakku.

No. No, that's not for you!

With an act of desperate willpower, Poe dragged himself back to the present. The mask stared at him. 'So you came here, to find… what?'

The voice wasn't so smooth anymore. Poe remembered the things that the general had taught him: how to close his mind. Apparently it had worked.

'Get out of my head.' Poe managed to say through gritted teeth.

A distorted chuckle seeped through the mask. 'Impressive. Your mind is well trained for one like you. You were sent here to find the old man, that much I know. What did he tell you?'

He almost told Ren everything, wanted to, but didn't. 'I… I'm not telling y-you anything.'

The world fell into near silence around him, like someone had put a flight helmet over his head. There was pressure – in his ears, on his eyes.

'I think you will. You're well trained, commander, but every man has limits.'

The pressure grew, a pain like cramp prickling up the backs of his legs and down his arms.

'This can stop at any point, commander.'

His mind returned to the dark place – the wet walls, the droids with their sharp blades and the eyeless, grinning men. _It's nothing like that, this is nothing._

'Yes… I can feel your strength, Commander. Your resolve is impressive. For what it is worth, I applaud your loyalty to that old crone.'

The prickling became a burning; the pressure crushing.

'What is your name.'

Poe clenched his teeth, squeezing his eyes – his agonised, crushed eyes – shut. He tried to think, tried to remember his training, but nothing would come.

'Dameron, Poe Dameron. Get out of my head!' he groaned.

'Good. I hope you're ready, commander Dameron, because this is really going to hurt.'

Poe screamed.


	7. Chapter 6: Hux I

Chapter 6: Hux I

'I have Tekka in custody, as well as a pilot from the resistance.' Ren said over the com.

Hux nodded. 'So do you have the map?'

'No. The map was held inside a droid – a BB-unit which was destroyed in your bombardment of the settlement. The bombardment I specifically warned against.'

Hux paused, breathing the cold air of the bridge and understanding that if the bombardment – that he had indeed insisted upon – had resulted in the loss of the map, and if the prisoners were incapable of providing it, then this could cost him dearly.

'The Supreme Leader insisted that you were not to put yourself in undue danger on this mission, Ren. You know that as well as I. Regulation demanded a pre-embarkation bombardment.' He could work this in his favour. In any case, the troopers had needed a workout. So few of their ground forces had seen combat.

'And your overcautious approach may have cost us dearly. But I have Tekka: I'll make sure he lives long enough for me to break his mind.' Ren said. 'And I think he might have something almost as important for us.'

_Overconfident moron_. Hux thought. Ren's appointment as joint commander of the _Finalizer_ had felt like a personal slight. He didn't need this wizard adventurer or his crew of barbarians to track down Luke Skywalker, but the supreme leader hadn't been interested in listening.

'Very good. We are ready to depart as soon as the drop pods are back aboard. Seventy-three troopers dead, it seems resistance was rather more substantial than you believed.'

'There were many defenders here, including several that were on the list that have been removed forever.'

'As it has cost taken such a substantial toll on our forces, it seems that a bombardment was indeed prudent after all.'

Ren didn't respond.

'Just get back to the ship. There is much to do. Hux out.'

He always preferred to have the last word in any communications wherever possible. It demonstrated one's authority.

'I'll be in the audience chamber, number one. Urgent contact only.'

The first officer, an enterprising young woman newly promoted to her role from the _Sojourner_, stood to attention. 'Yes, General Hux.' She said, her spine looking painfully erect.

Hux found her powerfully alluring. That, combined with her reputation for her orthodoxy and rampant rise through the ranks only made him want her more. He briefly wondered whether her presence on the _Finalizer_ was a test for his own orthodoxy and loyalty to the cause, but the supreme leader and fleet admiral were above such things. His loyalty was beyond reproach.

Though perhaps after the war?

He left the bridge and walked to the audience chamber entertaining ideas of further promotion and – following the war – a glorious retirement of honours, on Coruscant, perhaps, with all it's vast history.

There were two First Guard barring the entrance to the audience chamber as always. The red-armoured elite guard were always unsettling, hand-chosen by the supreme leader and his secretive Hands from the ranks of both troopers and naval staff, then removed and trained in secret.

He screwed up his nerve against the tall and unnerving figures and their enormous force-glaives. 'I am here to speak to the supreme leader.'

Without a word, the guardsmen stepped aside and the door to the audience chamber slid open silently.

He swallowed hard as icy-cold fingers of air reached out, seeming to coil around his legs.


	8. Chapter 7: Rey II

Chapter 7: Rey II

The benefits of a mostly full stomach, all the water she could drink and the sunset had worked wonders on Rey's mood. She leaned back against the leg, sighing contentedly as the stars started to emerge all around her.

She reached down to her plate, dabbing up the remaining crumbs of her polystarch roll and savouring them on her tongue until the tiniest morsel was indistinguishable from saliva.

As the last glimmers of dusk dwindled away, she stood and went inside. Her home was the caved-out carcass of an old walker from the long-dead empire. According to Unkar, it had been part of the final battle that had taken place there decades ago. It had fallen on its side and remained there after one of its rear legs had been destroyed until she had claimed it. It had been the first thing she had ever taken apart when she had run away from Plutt's house more than five years ago. She'd been living there since and had made it quite comfortable. Her protocol droid – really a repurposed old imperial cleaning unit that she had used to teach herself programming – greeted her at the door as it always did, no matter how long she had been away.

She took a seat on her couch – a converted pilot's seat with an added overhead vid screen - and connected to the newsnets. She would just lie down for a few minutes then get back to work.

She was halfway through the usual dream of them leaving, of how Plutt's fist held her whole arm in a vice-grip and her crying herself to sleep when the distant rumbling woke her.

She lay still for a moment, just listening. It was a booming, a screeching and… a pressure, all far away.

She sat up, leaning on one elbow. The pressure – the feeling – was heat and fear and darkness.

Uneasily she stood, walking to her makeshift front door. The sounds were from the north, over the back of the walker. Bending her knees, she jumped and landed lightly on the roof of her house. There, two metres above the sand she could see all the way to the edge of the horizon. Against the sea of stars came the distant booming, the distance making them little more than memories of their noise.

Whatever it was, it made her uneasy. Jakku was a silent world most of the time, with the occasional noise of a transport or freighter arriving from off-world. Other than those, almost nothing ever happened. Even the gang wars had died out over the last year since Plutt had consolidated his control over Niima Outpost.

The booming stopped abruptly after a few seconds and she waited in the silence. Long minutes passed with only the sound of her own body working and the faint breeze before she shivered. The desert was cold after sunset and that had been at least an hour ago. She turned and hopped back down to the ground, heading back inside.

Tomorrow was another day.


End file.
